


We Need to Talk

by Brosephine (SaturnOolaa)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, personal conversations in public settings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 11:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3326408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaturnOolaa/pseuds/Brosephine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian feels like he needs to explain himself to Bull, and does so in a very roundabout way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Need to Talk

It had taken a long time and more than a few false starts, but Bull had finally found the only chair in the Herald's Rest he knew wouldn't break as soon as he leaned back in it. He kept it up against the far wall, next to an empty barrel that doubled as a table, and the other regulars had been quick to recognize it as his favored seat.

He was sitting there as usual in contented silence, nursing a beer and half-listening to Maryden the bard sing about mages and Templars, when the tavern door opened and Dorian came in.

"Lieutenant," he said with a nod of greeting to Krem, who was seated in the corner by the door. "Everything's well with the Chargers, I presume?"

"We're holding up," replied Krem, a bit warily, but at least he returned the nod. Unlike Bull, he still treated Dorian with suspicion - a lifetime of experience with Tevinter's mage class had made him cautious. Recently, though, he had made some snide remarks to Bull about sleeping with the enemy, which was a good sign. Krem didn't joke about the shit that really bothered him.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Dorian, and continued through the tavern. Bull thought he might be heading to the bar, but instead, he stopped in front of him.

"Dorian!" he said brightly, sitting up in his chair. "What brings you down here? They run out of decent books in the library?"

"Oh, long ago," replied Dorian, with an awkward half-smile, "but that's not why I'm here. I had rather hoped to talk to you." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable.

"Sure, no problem." Bull put down his beer and gestured to the chair beside his. "What's on your mind?"

Dorian sat down, crossing one leg over the other in his usual fashion. "You must have noticed," he began, slowly, "that I've not been entirely comfortable with our... with what we've been doing becoming a matter of public knowledge." He didn't quite look Bull in the eye as he said it.

"Yeah," responded Bull, in as neutral a tone of voice as he could manage. "I've noticed."

Ever since word got out that they were fucking - and Bull would freely admit that he was responsible for that, although it would only have been a matter of time either way - Dorian had been acting different. He wasn't avoiding Bull, but he was quieter than usual, and their conversations involved less trading of friendly insults and more awkward pauses. His responses when anyone mentioned the two of them were short and exasperated. Bull hadn't expected him to be quite so cagey about the whole thing, but despite being an unrepentant showoff, Dorian could be deeply private about certain things. It seemed like this was one of them.

That he would even talk about this stuff in public was surprising. Either he'd resigned himself to most of Skyhold knowing that he'd set Bull's curtains on fire during sex, or he'd reached his breaking point and couldn't go another second without confronting Bull about the gossip. If it was the latter, this might not be a pleasant talk.

"Sure you don't want to go somewhere else to talk?"

Dorian looked around the room. The Herald's Rest was busy as usual, and although nobody was paying them any mind right now, there were several people within earshot. He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. "No, this is fine."

"If you say so." Bull shrugged his shoulders. "Listen, I like to be open about who I'm with. Especially when it's someone worth bragging about." He didn't bother to hide the smirk that came to his face. He even waggled his eyebrow for extra effect, trying to put Dorian more at ease.

He was rewarded with a small chuckle. "I won't deny it."

"But I'm not going to be a jackass about it, either. If you want to keep things a little quieter from here on in, I'm okay with that." It wasn't an offer he would normally make - he had no interest in being someone's dirty secret. But there was a difference between 'secret' and 'private,' and if it was privacy Dorian needed, Bull liked him enough to put up with that.

"That's what I wanted to discuss," responded Dorian with a frown. "It's not that I..." He stopped, sighed, and started again. "You said once you'd been to Tevinter. How much do you know about what life is like as an Altus?"

"You mean other than abusing slaves and summoning demons?"

"And sacrificing slaves *to* summon demons. Don't forget that old chestnut."

"Honestly, not much. There are plenty of Ben-Hassrath agents working in high society, but that was never my thing. My encounters with Magisters have usually been..." Bull gestured to his broadsword, in easy reach up against the wall behind him, "...short."

Dorian didn't even bother to correct him about how not every Altus was a Magister. "Count yourself lucky. Compared to the machinations of the Imperial elite, the Grand Game of Orlais is child's play. Every Altus is expected to make the perfect match, create the perfect child, join the Magesterium and wallow in the fruits of societal corruption for the rest of their lives. The most despicable behaviour can be excused in service of one's goals, but any deviation from the norm, no matter how small or harmless, is seen as a threat to the family name..." He trailed off, then sighed again. "Maker's breath, I'm rambling."

Bull snorted out a laugh. Whatever point Dorian was leading up to, he was being pretty damn careful about it. Bull couldn't blame him, though - everyone had their baggage about home, and Dorian more than most. If it took him a while to unpack it, Bull could wait. "Hey, you want to talk shit about your homeland, I'm happy to listen. You Vints are fucked up."

"Yes," responded Dorian dryly, "when viewed from a distance, the national pastime of breeding for ruthless ambition is rather off-putting."

"Oh, I'm not talking about the breeding stuff." Bull laughed again. "That's nothing compared to what the Tamassrans do - they've been controlling our bloodlines since before anyone can remember. I just don't understand why marriage is involved. Forcing two people into an unbreakable bond when all they need to do is fuck until somebody gets pregnant? That sounds like bullshit to me."

"You mean to say Qunari are literally bred?" Dorian looked slightly scandalized. If Bull had to guess, this was something he'd heard back home, but dismissed as propaganda. "Like livestock?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Under the Qun, the Priesthood plans out all the mating pairs in advance to create Qunari who'll be the best workers for different jobs. Soldiers are bred for strength, scholars for intelligence - that kind of thing. Hell, even our names are just strings of letters and numbers that identify what stock we come from."

"...I would say that sounds barbaric, but honestly, I imagine that in practice it's preferable to the way **my** people go about these things."

"Sounds like that's a pretty low standard to meet."

"Indeed." Dorian uncrossed his legs and shifted in his chair, returning to his previous train of thought. "In any case, as yet another scion of the grand Imperial tradition, I was bred to be handsome, intelligent, talented at magic. The perfect man. As you can see, for the most part, I was a tremendous success."

At another time, Bull might have cracked a joke about how they sure as hell weren't breeding for humility, but he kept it to himself. He knew where this was going now. "'For the most part.'"

"The exception being my sexuality." Dorian began to unconsciously stroke his mustache, something he only did when he was nervous. "Which, due to the importance of procreation among members of my class, is... not looked kindly upon."

Bull accepted this with a nod. "If you'd rather fuck a guy than your wife, you don't get as many little blood mages running around the Imperium."

"Exactly," replied Dorian. Realizing he was fidgeting, he dropped his hands back down to his lap, his expression wistful. "Ever since I was old enough to know what I am, I've had to hide it from the world. It's not as though it's particularly unusual - plenty of men do sleep with other men. But nobody talks about it. You meet someone, exchange certain covert signals, arrange for a time and place, hope that they don't intend to blackmail you... and when it's over, you're strangers again. It's safer that way."

"Did I mention that Vints are fucked up?"

"In some ways, it's quite an elegant system." Dorian's voice grew artificially bright. "As long as deviants like me are willing to confine ourselves to the occasional discrete fuck, everyone else can pretend it doesn't exist, and we're all happy." His hands clenched into fists. "Except, of course that I wasn't. I always hated having to sneak around, put on a show. That, among other reasons, is why I left. I wanted to live some place where I could be honest about myself."

The way he said it - defensively, as though he expected Bull to laugh at him - made Bull sad. Without really meaning to, he reached over and put his arm around Dorian, pulling him closer. "Well, now you can," he said.

Dorian went still. Then, all at once, he relaxed into the touch.

"Yes," he said, quietly, the anger gone out of him. "Now I can. But I'm afraid it's going to take some getting used to. You know, when I met with my father, the Inquisitor asked me if that was all our estrangement was about? That I slept with men?" His gaze went to Bull's hand on his shoulder. "As though it were perfectly normal."

Bull said nothing in response. He just kept his arm around Dorian, and they sat in silence for a while.

"So!" Dorian looked up, finally meeting his eyes. "This has all been a very roundabout way of saying that if I seem unusually reserved about my personal life, it's mostly force of habit. I don't mean to give off the impression that I'm... ashamed of this. Of us. Because I absolutely am not."

In one motion, he slid into Bull's lap, wrapped his arms around Bull's neck and kissed him, fiercely, with tongue.

The tavern grew hushed. Out of the corner of his eye, Bull could see people shifting in their chairs, trying to pretend they weren't watching. From the corner of the room, someone whistled.

"Shut up, Krem," growled Bull, and turned his full attention back to the kiss.

When he pulled away, Dorian had an expression of mixed embarrassment and triumph on his face. "And there you have it," he said, adjusting his collar as he stood up. "I'll see you tonight, Bull." With that, he turned around on his heel and strode out of the tavern. Krem actually clapped for him on his way out.

Bull leaned back in his chair, grinning like a fool. "Looks like you're on again," he called to Maryden, who was standing in front of the fire with a dazed look on her face, fingers frozen on the strings of her lute. "Play the one about Sera, will you? It's got a good beat to it."

All this time, and people could still surprise him.

**Author's Note:**

> So obviously there's nothing wrong with not wanting intimate details of your sex life talked about in public. But my thought is that Dorian being all awkward about it is based on previous life experience rather than innate preference, so obviously the next step was to write a fic about it.


End file.
